Regrets
by tamilnadu09
Summary: In which Bellamy makes sure that "may we meet again" isn't their goodbye. Post 2x16. Bellarke. Multi-chapter.
1. May We Meet Again

**A/N: so basically I have a lot of Bellarke feels from the finale and I needed to get them out somehow! This will be a short multi-chapter fic. It takes place immediately after the final B/C scene. Enjoy!**

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_Put my guns in the ground_  
_I can't shoot them any more_  
_That long cold black cloud  
Is coming down_

_._

_._

Bellamy stepped forward. He paused, staring hard at the ground. He forced himself to take another step. _Just keep walking_. A few more steps—_yes, finally he was at the gate. _But then he stopped and, almost unwillingly, turned around for one last glimpse.

She had covered far more distance than he had in the past few minutes. He squinted, trying to make out her figure at the edges of his vision. She was striding forward confidently; so sure of herself. He wasn't even aware of stepping towards her—but then suddenly there was a hand on his arm, gently holding him back, bringing him back to reality.

He looked up, startled, to see Monty looking at him. _Was that pity in his gaze? _"She has to do this," Monty said, unable to look him in the eye. "We have to let her go."

Bellamy struggled internally, trying to force the dread out of his chest. "She'll get herself killed."

"If you really believed that, you would've stopped her."

"You think I didn't try?" Bellamy suddenly felt anger coursing through his veins. He had tried. _C__ome inside. _He had told her, pleaded even. But she was so damn stubborn.

"Must be that Griffin blood."

"What?"

Monty blinked at him, "Her stubbornness, I said it must be—"

"Did I say that out loud?" Bellamy rubbed a hand across his face tiredly. He was starting to lose it. He could feel it the second she had said she wasn't going in. And now he could see evidence of it in the way Monty was watching him, slightly wary and even afraid. "I'm fine," he muttered, his jaw clenching against the lie. "Let's go."

"Just so you know," Monty said quietly as he fell into step with Bellamy, "I tried to stop her, too."

Bellamy didn't say anything to that. His mind flashed, remembering Clarke's hug with Monty. _A goodbye hug. _He unconsciously touched his fingers to his cheek, feeling the lingering sensation of her lips pressed against his skin. _A goodbye kiss. _

His gaze landed on Abby, and his heart sank further. There was too much commotion for now, maybe she wouldn't notice, maybe she wouldn't see...

"You should tell her."

"How can I?" Bellamy wasn't looking at Monty; he wasn't looking anywhere, really. "She's already been through hell and back, how can I tell her that her daughter left without saying goodbye?"

"We can't keep this from her," Monty sounded hesitant, "I'll come with you, if you want. We can tell her together."

"No," Bellamy glanced up at him, coming to terms with the decision laid out in front of him. "This isn't on you." Then he took a deep breath and made his way to Abby's stretcher. She looked up at him as he approached, and the small smile of relief on her face slowly disappeared. He could see the exact instant that she realized something was wrong; the exact instant she knew he came bearing bad news.

_I bear it so they don't have to. _

Clarke's last words were ringing in his ears. He knelt down beside Abby and swallowed. Just as Bellamy opened his mouth to speak, a shadow fell over both of them and he looked up to see Monty standing beside him. His face was somber, "This isn't on you, either. She told the both of us. We can share that burden."

Bellamy's mouth went dry. He merely stared at Abby, desperately willing her to understand. Finally he choked out hoarsely, "I'm sorry."

Alarmed, she tried to sit up on the stretcher and immediately let out a hiss of pain. Kane was at her side in the blink of an eye. "Abby, you need to lie still so they can patch you up—what the hell are you doing?" His gaze darted between her expression and Bellamy's, before he quickly realized that something was very wrong. "Bellamy, what happened?"

Abby was reaching a hand out towards him, but Bellamy couldn't do it. He abruptly stood up, attempting to distance himself from the situation. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice even hoarser than last time. "There was nothing I could do."

"Bellamy?" Tears were glistening in her eyes now, and he knew the realization was sinking in for her. "Where's my baby?"

Monty stepped forward, almost as if he knew Bellamy had no more words within him. "Clarke didn't...I mean, she couldn't..."

Kane had risen to his feet now as well. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, "Of course Clarke came back with us! I saw her!"

"S-she did come back with us," Monty stammered, "But what I mean to say is she didn't...um, she—"

"Didn't stay," Bellamy finally found his voice, and his shoulders hunched as two pairs of eyes swung over to look at him. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. "She left."

Abby started shaking her head, and kept shaking it, almost as if she couldn't stop. Her voice hitched, "Left with whom, exactly? Is there another threat that you haven't told us about? Is—is she in the forest? Fighting again?"

"She didn't leave with anyone," Bellamy's voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears. "I don't know where she went. I don't...I don't think she knew either."

Kane looked angry now, "How do you know she left? Did she say something to you?"

Monty flinched.

Bellamy turned around, gazing into the distance. Of course, there was nothing to look at. "May we meet again."

"What was that?" Kane strode forward, grabbing Bellamy's arm. "So help me god, if you knew Clarke was going off on her own and did nothing to stop her, I will have you—"

"I TRIED, ALRIGHT?" Bellamy shouted, losing his temper. He wrenched his arm away from Kane and made a conscious effort not to attack the man standing before him. "I tried to make her stay, and she didn't want to hear it!"

"It wasn't just him," Monty interjected, though his voice wavered in the wake of Kane's furious gaze. "She told me, too. I couldn't stop her either."

Bellamy fell back to his knees next to Abby. "I should've tried harder. I'm sorry."

"You've sent her to her death," Kane growled, "She's out there all on her own, probably heading straight into Grounder territory with no alliance to speak of!"

Abby seemed to have forgotten all about being drilled into for bone marrow. She also seemed to be ignoring Kane completely. "Why?" Her voice shook uncontrollably, "Bellamy, tell me why she left. I know she told you."

He stared at her, feeling his chest constrict painfully. "How did you know that?"

"Because you wouldn't have let her go if she didn't have a reason."

_Seeing their faces everyday, it's just going to remind me of what I did to get them here. _"You're right," Bellamy admitted, lowering his gaze and suddenly (for some inexplicable reason) feeling ashamed that he hadn't been able to do more. "She did."

"Because of what she had to do to get our people back," Abby murmured, her head falling back onto the stretcher. "She couldn't deal with what she had done."

"You know what happened?" Monty frowned, looking uncertain. "She told you?"

"No," Abby whispered, now sounding as if all the strength within her had been sucked away. "Clarke told me she tried to be the good guy, but..." A sob escaped her lips and she clutched a hand to her mouth, not wanting to attract the attention of the camp.

"But there are no good guys," Bellamy continued to stare at the ground, not wanting to see the accusation in Kane's eyes or the heartbreak on Abby's face. "I tried to offer her forgiveness."

Abby's voice was thick with unshed tears, "It wasn't enough."

"No," Bellamy replied, now raising his eyes, "It wasn't."

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "What did she ask of you?"

He frowned, confused. "What?"

"You weren't there..." Her voice was weak, "I saw my daughter's face when she learned you were alive. The moment that she heard you were here at camp...She trusts you, Bellamy. I know she...she must've asked you to stay."

_Take care of them for me. _

Bellamy didn't say anything, but the answer must have been written on his face. Abby took one look at him and then sighed. A defeated sigh.

"It wasn't just her," he suddenly said, "We were in it together. We did it for the camp, for our people." He shifted forward, needing her to _understand_. "Clarke didn't do it alone. I tried to tell her, I tried—"

"I know." Against all odds, Abby was holding his hand. He looked up at her, disbelievingly. Here he was, trying to tell her what he had done, and _she_ was the one comforting _him_. "It's okay, Bellamy. I don't blame you."

"You...you don't?"

She cracked a small, tired smile. "I know my daughter. Once she makes a decision, lord help anyone that attempts to stand in her way." Abby opened her eyes and gave Bellamy's hand a final squeeze. "I know you did everything you could."

He slowly got to his feet. For the first time since Clarke had walked away, he took a good look around the camp. Raven was on another stretcher, Wick hovering at her shoulder. Octavia stood near them, her warrior paint fading from her face. Even now, in relative safety, she stood poised and alert. Lincoln was at her side, his fingers interlaced with hers.

A few feet away from them stood Jasper, holding a pair of goggles in his hand. He looked lost. Almost as if he could feel Bellamy's gaze on him, Jasper suddenly looked up. But the expression on his face never changed. Instead, Jasper's gaze slid to the left and his face imperceptibly hardened before he looked back down at his goggles.

Bellamy looked to his right to see Monty standing beside him. He too had noticed Jasper's reaction, and his face fell. "Maya," Monty said quietly, "He loved her. He's never going to forgive us for what we did."

_What WE did. You don't have to do this alone. _

Abby followed their line of sight. When she looked back at Bellamy, her face was impassive. He felt his pulse quicken, his heart pounding dimly in his ears. He opened his mouth and the words spilled from his lips easily, as if he had already decided it and his brain was just now catching up. "I'm going after her."

No one looked surprised, least of all Kane. It was Monty, however, who spoke first. "But I thought you said Clarke wanted you to look after the camp?"

"I know." Bellamy twisted around, looking out at the trees in the distance. In the sudden silence, the wind picked up, rustling through the leaves and stinging against his skin. "But I can't do this without her."

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***hope you liked the first chapter! All characters will be included except for Murphy/Jaha because I really have no idea what is going on with that whole City of Lights SL...anyway, thanks for reading and be sure to drop a review! xoxo**


	2. A Solider I Will Be

**A/N: wow, I was blown away by the amazing response to the first chapter and all your sweet words in the reviews. Thank you so much! **

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_Sometimes to win,  
__You've got to sin,  
__Don't mean I'm not a believer_

_._

_._

Bellamy scrambled around the weapons tent, looking for bullets. He had already scavenged two guns and shoved them into his backpack, but now he needed the necessary ammo. When it came down to it, Kane was right about one thing—since the Mountain Men had been annihilated, the whole "enemy of my enemy is my friend" thing was pretty much moot.

There was no alliance, and frankly nothing stopping the Grounders from regaining their territory. His palms grew damp and a sweat broke out across his forehead as he realized that, to the Grounders, killing Clarke would be seen as the ultimate win. _Take down the leader of the Sky People...break them..._

"Please tell me Monty was joking!" Octavia's shrill voice pierced his thoughts and he whirled around to see her standing at the entrance of the tent, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Bell, you're not serious!' She strode forward, her face set with anger, "We just got back!"

He closed his eyes, unable to face the desperation in his sister's expression. "O, please," he said tightly, "I have to get her back here before it's too late."

"But I just got _you_ back!" she grabbed his forearm, her nails digging into his skin. "You don't get it, do you? I thought I might never see you again! I thought..." Octavia's voice broke and her grip tightened around him. "_We _were so close to never seeing each other again."

"Hey," Bellamy straightened, now looking her in the eye. "I'll be back before you know it. Promise."

"No," she shook her head, her voice growing thick. "No, you can't promise me that. Not after everything that has happened; not after what we know is out there!"

"What's out there is exactly why I need to go after Clarke and bring her back! She has nowhere to go!" His voice became pleading, "O, she'll get herself killed."

When Octavia looked at him again, her face had hardened. "So Clarke left," she hissed, "Good riddance!"

Bellamy stiffened, staring at his sister incredulously. "What are you talking about? Clarke's the reason that—"

"That I almost died!" she exploded, her fist slamming down on the wooden table beside them and sending bullets clattering to the ground. "The reason that everyone died! _Our _people, Bell!"

He frowned, confusion marring his features. "Listen, I know a lot happened out there but you need to understand...O, Clarke and I pulled the lever together. We had no choice; you and Jasper were in danger, Cage was about two seconds from killing Abby, Raven was already seriously hurt..."

Bellamy swallowed, his hand shaking as he remembered the terrifying scenes that had flashed across the security screens. Octavia's gaze drifted down and he quickly clenched his hand into a fist to hide what was happening. When she looked back at him, her eyes had narrowed. "That's not what I'm talking about."

She turned to leave, but he reached out to pull her back. He felt strangely lightheaded, almost as if he already knew that he didn't want to hear what she had to say. But he needed to know. "Tell me."

Octavia glanced between him and the fingers wrapped around her wrist, before she relented. "I'm telling you this because you're my brother, and I love you." She paused and then added, "And I don't want you going out there and getting yourself killed over somebody like Clarke. She doesn't deserve you." After a moment, she corrected herself. "I mean, she doesn't deserve you risking your life for hers. Again."

Bellamy let go, beginning to get defensive. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. Clarke has done a lot for this camp, for our people! She went against her own mother to get to Mount Weather, she formed an alliance with our _enemy _just to get our people back!"

"Oh yeah, she's definitely done _a lot," _Octavia sneered, "No one can argue that." She stepped closer to Bellamy and lowered her voice, so much so that he had to strain to hear her when she spoke again. "The missile launch at Ton DC. She knew about it."

He waited, but she didn't say anything else. "I know," he replied carefully, "I overheard Cage talking about it. I had Clarke and Raven on the radio when it happened. Clarke left to go warn them."

His sister scoffed then, turning away from him with a muttered, "Unbelievable."

"What?" Bellamy demanded, never surer of the fact that he definitely didn't want to have this conversation. "Did she not get there in time?"

"She definitely got there in time," Octavia's tone was edged not only with anger now, but with betrayal. "And she did nothing except save her own skin."

Silence.

Bellamy had to force air into his lungs when he felt the room begin to spin. He bent over, his hands on his knees. _Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in..._

"Bell? Did you hear me? I said—"

"I heard you," he cut her off, his voice harsh. "Just...just give me a minute."

But Octavia had never been one for listening to directions. She instantly crouched on the ground in front of him, her fingers grazing his cheek. "Are you okay?" He met her gaze, but couldn't form the words to reply. She nodded once, somehow understanding. "I was shocked too. I still am. The damage was...horrific. So much blood and smoke and fire...I can't..." Her voice became a whisper, "I still see it when I close my eyes, every night.."

Bellamy's mind felt slow, sluggish, as he struggled to comprehend what she was telling him. "How do you know?"

His sister blinked then, her brow furrowing. "Know what? Oh, you mean how come I wasn't caught in the blast? Yeah, luckily I was out there with Lincoln, who was in Reaper-mode so—"

"What?"

"I guess he was injected with that stuff..." Octavia trailed off, noticing the look on his face. "What?"

"You were there?"

She nodded, still looking confused. "Didn't you know?"

Bellamy shook his head, dazed. "Clarke...she told me that you were safe."

Octavia didn't say anything for a long moment. When she spoke again, her mouth twisted, "Well, that I can understand."

He blew out a gust of air, "Excuse me?"

She looked at him unsmilingly. "Clarke didn't want you to be distracted from the mission. Knowing I was in danger would've done just that."

"But you _were_ in danger!" Bellamy shouted, breathing hard. Fury seeped into his blood, igniting his body until all he saw was red. "She...you...you could've died!"

"Yes," Octavia said shortly, "But I didn't, because I was lucky. But the others? They weren't so lucky. Kane was trapped underground, Indra was injured..." Pain suddenly flashed across her expression and she fell silent.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't know."

His sister shook her head, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Bell. You didn't do this. You didn't do any of this. Everything that happened? It's on Clarke." Octavia came forward, placing her hands on his shoulders and squeezing them lightly. "You don't need her to lead our people. _We _don't need her."

He took an unwilling step back, shaking his head. _We can't do this without you, Bellamy_. It felt like ages ago Clarke had said that to him. Another lifetime, even. _Those kids out there, they listen to you. _

"They listen to her more," the words slipped out, before he knew what he was saying. But Octavia heard, and she had already moved forward, grabbing his arm, refuting his claim.

"It's not true," she insisted, "Once everyone finds out what she did—"

"No!" Bellamy shut her down immediately, the warning unmistakable in his tone. "No one can ever know, do you understand me?"

Octavia glared at him, "I've kept it a secret this long because I knew what they would do. But she's gone now, and we're better off for it! You're our leader too, Bellamy. You single-handedly infiltrated Mount Weather, _you _made all this happen. If that doesn't deserve their respect, then I don't know what does."

_They were willing to fight and die for you. You inspire them. _"No," he repeated slowly, "They can't know." He looked up, meeting her gaze. "We've all seen what a crowd is capable of. I won't have them turning against Clarke."

"Fine," Octavia responded begrudgingly, "It'll be between us. But that doesn't change what I said. You don't need her to lead our people. We're not just a bunch of kids running around here anymore, Bell! You're not alone."

_I need you. We all need you. None of us would've survived this place if it wasn't for you. You want forgiveness? Fine, I'll give it you, you're forgiven, okay? _

"I..." Bellamy groaned, violently throwing his bag across the room. It hit the table with a loud thud and fell to the ground, spilling its contents. "I can't just abandon her to her fate, Octavia! I get it, you're angry with her; you feel betrayed by someone who was a friend. You know what? I get it, I'm angry too, but I can't..."

"What?" His sister stormed forward, getting into his face, "You can't what?"

"We've all done horrible things," Bellamy scowled at the ground, hating that he was allowing himself to see the reasoning behind Clarke's actions. "I've done things, Octavia! Things I'm not proud of, things that Clarke..." He swallowed, "She offered me absolution when I didn't deserve it. We would've never made it this far without her." He took a deep breath, glancing up, "_I _would've never made it this far without her."

Octavia merely stared at him, not saying a word. Finally she shook her head, bitterness lacing her tone. "You've already forgiven her for what she did in Ton DC, haven't you?"

"No—"

"Yes, you have," she cut him off scathingly. "Or else you wouldn't be going after her. You would understand that we don't need someone like _her _leading our people!"

Bellamy grabbed Octavia's shoulder, spinning her around to look at him. "I will never forgive her for lying to me about your safety," he said in a low dangerous voice. "But she doesn't deserve to be out there all alone. She saved me from making that decision once. I owe her."

_You can't run, Bellamy...You have to come back with me. You have to face it. _

Octavia frowned at him, "What are you talking about? What decision?"

He let his arm drop back down to his side, Clarke's words repeating on a loop in the back of his mind. "I was going to run once. And Clarke is the one who asked me to stay. She told me I couldn't run from my problems; that I had to face them head on." He knelt down to pick up his pack, and shoved everything back in. "And now she's the one who needs to hear those words. I won't leave her to face her demons alone, not when she was at my side for mine."

"God, do you even hear yourself?" Octavia followed him out of the tent, indignantly snarling into his ear. "You're willing to leave everybody just for _her_? What the hell happened to the Bellamy that I know? The one who understands that the needs of many outweigh the needs of the few? Or in this case, the ONE?"

"Just stop!" he hissed, coming to a halt so suddenly that she nearly walked right into him. "If you really believed that, then you wouldn't be mad at Clarke for what happened! I've been racking my brain trying to figure out why she would keep her mouth shut about the missile and the only thing I can come up with is—"

"Yeah, she was trying to give you a chance, so what?" Octavia interrupted heatedly, "There were other ways to accomplish that, everyone didn't have to die!"

"Maybe so," Bellamy agreed, looking out into the distance. Then he spun on his heel and headed towards medical. "Where's Wick? I need to find a radio before I head out."

"You're still going?" Octavia's frustrated yell reached his ears, "Why?"

"Because she deserves a chance, too."

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***those Blake siblings definitely know how to take over a chapter! hope you liked the second installment ;)**


	3. Outside

**A/N: ****has it only been a couple weeks since season 2 ended? because it feels like a year tbh...don't know how I'm going to survive this hiatus xD thank you as always for your sweet reviews, they mean so much to me! Seems like people were divided over Octavia's attitude, which is what I like to hear! All of these characters live in a morally grey world, and their decisions reflect that. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy the latest installment! **

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_Now I'm holding on_  
_Myself was never enough for me_  
_Gotta be so strong_

_._

_._

Bellamy strode into medical, his eyes darting among all the injured with some trepidation. It was chaos. _But it could be worse_. He wondered what it meant that they had all seen worse, had been through worse, and—at this point—expected the worst.

After navigating his way through the stretchers, he finally found the two people he had been searching for. "Hey," he greeted, coming to a stop beside Raven and Wick. "How are you feeling?"

She gave him a weak smile, "Can't say I haven't been better."

For the first time since he'd left for Mount Weather, he looked at her—_really _looked. There were dark circles around her eyes and her jaw was clenched against spasms of pain, but this time he knew it was only physical pain. The deadened gaze she'd carried with her since Finn's death was beginning to fade. Bellamy glanced over at the reason for her healing; Wick raised his eyebrows back at him, questioningly. "Everything alright, Bellamy?"

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "Actually I wanted to ask you something, but do you mind if I have a few words with Raven first?"

Wick shifted, looking uncertain. Bellamy didn't miss the look he exchanged with Raven, or the small affirmative nod she gave back. "I'll just go check on a few things then," he knelt down to brush a kiss onto Raven's forehead, and the corner of her lips lifted in response.

"So," Bellamy started teasingly as soon as Wick left, "What's going on there?"

Raven rolled her eyes at him, "None of your business, boss man." She tried to sit up, but winced. "Damn, this thing hurts like a bitch."

"Hey," he placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to lie back down. "Don't tear your stitches, or Wick will have my head."

"I doubt it," she coughed, her voice becoming fainter even as she tried to continue their banter. "He's a lover, not a fighter."

"Oh really?" Bellamy tried to grin, "I'll have to keep that in mind."

Raven began to reply, but then her eyes closed as another spasm of pain shot through her body. "Hell, what does it take for a girl to get some pain meds around here?"

Bellamy brushed hair off her sweaty forehead, beginning to get concerned. "You want me to get someone?"

She took a careful breath in and slowly let it out, shaking her head once. "I'll survive." Then she opened her eyes, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I know you didn't come in here to ask about my relationship with Wick."

"That's true. I didn't," Bellamy agreed reluctantly. He knelt down beside her and looked around to make sure no one was listening. "I wanted to ask you about something, actually."

Raven watched him curiously, "Shoot."

He licked his dry lips and swallowed, "When I was at Mount Weather, there was a day that we made contact." He hesitated, "The day that I was crawling around in the vents."

She nodded, but now she looked slightly suspicious. "I remember."

"On the radio, we overheard Cage's plan for the missile launch at Ton DC." At his words, Raven's face went carefully blank. Bellamy noticed and sighed, "Raven, come on. I need to know."

"Know what?" Her voice sounded belligerent, "You know, I think I'm getting a little tired. Can we do this another time, Bellamy?"

He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "Look, I already know what happened, okay? I know about all those people that died, I just—"

"Well, then you know that there was nothing else you could've done to stop it," Raven interrupted. "You gave us the information and Clarke immediately took off."

"I know, I just..." Bellamy trailed off. "Did you know my sister was there?"

Raven didn't reply.

He reached out for her hand, his gaze becoming pleading. "I'm not mad, Raven. It's all over with. I just need to know."

After a moment, she relented. "No, I didn't know until after we cut the connection with you. That's when Clarke told me. She thought you would be distracted from the mission if you knew that Octavia was in danger."

Bellamy slowly got to his feet, dusting off his pants in order to avoid looking at the pity in her gaze. "Thanks for telling me the truth."

"You said it yourself," Raven replied quietly, "It's over and done with. It's time to focus on the present, Bellamy."

He straightened, nodding his head in agreement. "You're right." He turned to go, but she called him back weakly. "What is it?"

"I'm not going to pretend to understand what Clarke did or what happened when she got to Ton DC, but...if there's one thing that Finn's death taught me, it's that Clarke has this way of looking at the bigger picture." Raven's voice wavered, but the tears in her eyes never formed. "It's what makes her a kickass leader."

Bellamy smiled a little at that, and then made his way back outside. He found Wick immediately, mostly because he was standing next to Octavia. Both of them had their arms crossed in identical disapproving poses.

"O, they could really use your help inside," Bellamy said half-heartedly, gesturing with his thumb towards medical. "There's a lot of people injured, and I know Clarke taught you a thing or two."

She tossed him a glare, but didn't move.

He shook his head and turned to Wick, "So, I was wondering if you could—"

"Get you a radio so that you can go after Clarke," Wick tilted his head in Octavia's direction. "You sister filled me in while you were talking to Raven."

A muscle ticked in Bellamy's jaw, "Of course she did."

Wick held up both hands, "Look, I know better than to get in the middle of whatever sibling rivalry thing you two have going on here. If you want a radio, then yeah, I can arrange for that. But there's no way in hell you're gonna go out there alone."

"I appreciate your input, Wick," Bellamy responded through gritted teeth, "But this is my decision."

"Actually, it's not," Octavia snapped. "If none of us can change your mind about going, then..." She suddenly straightened, her voice becoming defiant. "I'm going with you."

"Like hell you are!" he exploded, "You are not to leave this camp, and that's an order!"

"You don't tell me what to do, big brother," she shot back, now mimicking his words. "I make my own decisions."

Bellamy spun on his heel, looking for Lincoln. Maybe he would be able to talk some sense into... "Why is Lincoln coming out the weapons tent with two bags?'

"Because he's coming, too."

"Right," Wick hastily began backing away, "I'll just, uh, go get that radio while...uh, you guys get this all sorted out."

Bellamy pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to count to ten in his head and giving up after getting to three. "I think you have failed to understand that THIS IS NOT A SEARCH PARTY."

Octavia shoved him then, hard. He stumbled back several paces, anger rising to the forefront of his emotions. Before he could say anything, she had shoved him again. "And you, Bell, have failed to understand that I just got you back and I'm sure as hell not letting you out of my sight again! If that means that I have to follow you back into those woods on some boneheaded mission then so be it!"

"Someone needs to stay here and watch over our people!"

"Yeah, and I'm sure Abby and Kane will do just fine!"

"You don't get it, do you?" Bellamy shouted, breathing hard, "You and Lincoln are some of our best fighters, and I won't have both of you leaving this camp! End of discussion!"

"Hey guys..." Wick had appeared again and was currently inching towards them at a snail's pace. "I come bearing gifts." He held out a radio in his hand, much like one would hold out a peace offering. Walking beside him was none other than Monty.

"Thanks," Bellamy snatched the radio and shoved it into his pack, not looking at anyone in particular. "Monty, what are you doing here?"

"I'm going with you."

"No. You're not."

"You need me."

Bellamy frowned, "Listen, Monty...you've been a great asset, and we couldn't have done a lot of things without you. But with Raven injured, we're going to need another tech person to help her out around here."

"I agree," Monty nodded, "Someone like Wick."

"That's not what I—"

"What you and Clarke had to do up there..that's on me, too!" Monty suddenly said, his voice cracking. He looked away from Bellamy's startled gaze. "Don't you get it? All that guilt that you think you're sharing with Clarke? Well, I feel it too and I can't...I can't deal, okay? I need to do something; I need to get away from here, from everyone looking at me like I..."

Bellamy instinctively looked around for Jasper; the one person who was always at Monty's side, no matter what. And the one person who was nowhere near him now. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "Of course you must feel that burden, too. I didn't think."

"So, I'm coming." There was no question in Monty's tone now. It was a statement. He had made up his mind, that much was clear.

Bellamy crossed his arms and glanced at his sister, trying to make one last stand on the matter. "We're not _all _going."

Octavia's mouth opened and closed furiously, "So you're accepting Monty on this mission but not me? I'm not some helpless little girl, Bell!"

"You think I don't know that!?" He stared at her in disbelief, "You're a fighter, O. A real badass one, too. Why else do you think I want you to stay behind? It's not to protect _you_." He stepped closer to her, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. "It's because there's no one else I trust more than you to protect _our people_."

His sister blinked at his words, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. He watched as a mixture of emotions crossed her face, battling for dominance. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, her shoulders relaxed and the tension eased out of her face. "Clarke always said you were good at getting what you wanted."

The corner of his mouth lifted, but he didn't reply. "Watch over them, O. Keep them safe for me. He hesitated and then added in a quieter voice, "For...us."

Octavia met his gaze then, and her eyes narrowed. "Lincoln, can you and Monty go get a pack ready for him, please? And another radio from Wick, just in case."

Bellamy frowned, watching them walk away. "What—"

"I love you, big brother," Octavia suddenly wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. "And I think I've figured out why you're doing this, even if you haven't figured it out yourself." She let go and pulled back, noting Bellamy's confused expression. "Be safe," she squeezed his forearm, "Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment too much."

"Okay, I think he's all set," Lincoln announced, returning at that moment with Monty. "Food, supplies, radio," he helped Monty put the pack on. "Keep a sharp eye out there, alright?"

"We will," Monty replied, reaching over to hug Octavia. Before he pulled away, he muttered, "If something happens, can you tell Jasper..."

"I will," she tried to smile, but found she couldn't. "Be safe."

"Ready?"

Bellamy nodded in response to Monty's question. "Ready."

Octavia hurried forward, grasping both of his hands tightly within hers. Tears glistened in her eyes. "May we meet again."

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, "May we meet again." And then, shoulder to shoulder, he set off into the woods with Monty.

It was time to bring Clarke home.

* * *

***it actually killed me to tear the Blakes apart again! they've been through so much *cries* **


	4. Leads Me Back to You

**A/N: thank you for all your kind words and reviews! And I especially love it when people tell me all the characters sound true to themselves. Now that's what I like to hear ;) **

* * *

_I was there for you_  
_In your darkest times_  
_And I was there for you_  
_In your darkest nights_

_._

_._

Bellamy half expected someone to come running after them, but the only sound that followed his footsteps was the wind rushing past his ears. Unconsciously, he followed the trajectory he had seen Clarke take, right up to the point where she had disappeared from his vision. There, he came to a stop and stared out at the expanse of forest awaiting them.

The footsteps shuffling beside him also came to a stop. Monty shaded his eyes against the setting sun and twisted on his heel to look back at the way they had come, before voicing Bellamy's own thoughts out loud. "I'm surprised no one came after us. I thought maybe Kane...or even Lincoln, for that matter..."

"Kane wouldn't leave Abby," Bellamy's voice came out gruffer than he intended. "Especially not now." He glanced at Monty, but took particular care not to turn all the way around. He had no intention of turning back towards camp. If Clarke could be strong, then so could he. "As for Lincoln, he won't leave Octavia. From what I understand, the Grounders consider both of them traitors. He knows the woods aren't safe for them."

Monty shouldered his pack, pulling on the straps to tighten them. "I don't think they're safe for any of us."

Bellamy looked down at the ground, scuffing his boot back and forth into the dirt and pretending to be fascinated with the pattern he was making. "Look, if you want to go back, no one's going to stop you or..." He cleared his throat, "Or think any less of you."

"No," Monty sounded almost offended. "I'm not going back." There was a long pause. "Do _you _want to go back?"

Bellamy shook his head with a rueful smile, but didn't answer. Instead, he took a deep breath and walked on. They didn't speak again until they had reached the edge of the woods. "Well, last I saw, she was headed in this direction." He stared out into the trees, but there was no sign of movement. "How good are you at tracking?"

"Pretty terrible," Monty replied blandly, "And you?"

"Could be better...some search party, huh?"

"Too bad Finn isn't around." As soon as the words were out of Monty's mouth, his eyes widened in horror. "Uh, I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," Bellamy cut him off. "I know Finn was one of our best trackers. And you're right, he would definitely be useful right now. That being said, the longer we stand here and waste time, the farther away Clarke gets." With that, he strode off into the trees. Soft footsteps padded along behind him after a second, signaling that Monty was following several paces behind. "Stay close," Bellamy said unnecessarily. The distance of the footsteps shortened.

"So, it's true then?" Monty sounded hesitant, "What happened with Finn, I mean. Raven told me that Clarke had to..."

"Save him the only way she knew how," Bellamy finished the sentence, his mouth twisting. "She did what we couldn't."

"That...that must've been...I wouldn't have been able to do it." Monty broke off with a shudder, "To someone that I cared about? I couldn't have done it."

Bellamy nodded silently, memories crashing into the back of his mind. _This isn't about hope. It's about guts. You don't have the guts to make the right choices. _He had been so wrong; not just about her, but about everything. "Do you remember when we first got here and Jasper was nearly killed?"

"How could I forget?" Monty's voice was flat, "You said if Jasper didn't get better, you'd kill him yourself."

Bellamy didn't flinch, but his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I thought Clarke didn't have it in her to make the tough decisions."

"We were strangers then, all of us," Monty reminded him. There was no judgement in his voice, or accusation. "Do you want to know what I said about you that day?"

"That I was a pompous jerk who needed to be put in his place?"

Monty's lips twitched. "Close." He turned to meet Bellamy's gaze, "That you were a power hungry, self-serving jackass."

"Sounds about right."

They resumed walking in silence. It was only when Bellamy crouched onto the ground to examine some broken tree branches, did Monty speak again. "Maybe you were," he said, continuing as though there had been no break in the conversation. "But that's not who you are now. This place? It's changed us. Not only what we do, but who we are."

_You always did what you had to do to protect your sister. That's who you are. _

Bellamy frowned, not looking up. He ran his fingers along the dirt, absentmindedly tracing a footprint that he hoped was Clarke's. "It's changed us for the worse, Monty."

"No," Monty disagreed. "I thought—well, we all thought—you didn't care about anyone but yourself. But the truth is, you've gone above and beyond to sacrifice yourself for all of us, same as Clarke."

"I'm not a good person."

Monty reached over, squeezing Bellamy's shoulder briefly. "We've all done things we aren't proud of." He stood aside, allowing Bellamy to get to his feet. "Find anything?"

"She went this way," he pointed out a path straight ahead, trying to sound more confident than he actually felt. "Come on, we need to hurry if we want to catch up with her. It'll be dark soon and..." He trailed off, "And I let her go with no radio, no food, and no supplies." He quickened his pace, his pulse beginning to thud in his ears. "She can't survive for long out here alone."

"We'll find her," Monty reassured him, "She only had a couple hours head start." As they traveled deeper into the woods, darkness began to fall around them. "Should we turn on our flashlights?"

"Not yet," Bellamy crouched down again, this time squinting in the dim light to find the trail. "We need to conserve our supplies. We'll take them out once I can't see her tracks anymore."

Monty nodded, tapping his foot nervously as he watched Bellamy. "Do you think Murphy and Jaha are still alive?"

Bellamy glanced up, surprised at the question. "Who told you they left?"

"Clarke mentioned it."

"I think...that if Murphy survived this long, he can survive anything. And Jaha...well, who knows about him." Bellamy stood up abruptly, causing Monty to take a startled step backwards. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Monty stammered, quickly shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm just...these woods don't exactly hold the best memories for me. It's nothing. Let's keep going. Which way?"

Bellamy stared at him as several things clicked into place. "Monty, you shouldn't have come."

"What?" He whirled around, annoyance lining his features. "Why the hell not?"

"These woods!? From where you were kidnapped ages ago by those freaks on Mount Weather?" Bellamy scowled, crossing his arms. "You of all people deserve to be back home!"

"Yeah, well, you'll have to excuse me if camp doesn't exactly feel like home to me right now." Monty's mouth thinned, "It doesn't matter when I was taken. I can't just sit there and pretend like everything is okay when it's not."

"I never asked you to do that."

"And I didn't ask for your permission to find Clarke."

Bellamy shook his head once, realization washing over him. "I am such an idiot." He jabbed a finger at Monty, "You're running away, just like Clarke."

Monty looked wary, but didn't deny it. "We're not all like you, Bellamy. We can't all be strong and—and just tuck our emotions and feelings away in some dark corner!" His hands curled into fists at his side, "When we were stuck on Mount Weather, it was Jasper who took charge. He is the one who planned and made deals and kept us alive. He never doubted that Clarke would come back for us, even when we were told she was dead!"

"I'm not—"

"And now Jasper, my best friend, can't even _look _at me! How do you think that makes me feel? You and Clarke, you guys don't care if you have friends because people will listen to you regardless! They look up to you and they'll follow you! But me? I'm nothing without Jasper, and—"

"Don't say that," Bellamy cut him off with a harsh whisper. "You saved all our lives today. And yeah, what happened sucked, I get it. But if you think every dead body doesn't haunt my dreams, you're wrong. I feel them, Clarke feels them, every leader in the history of time _feels _them, Monty!"

"If I saved people, then why don't I feel like a hero?" Monty challenged, "Why do I feel like I let everyone down?"

"Did you see them?" Bellamy countered, "Did you see their faces when we reached camp? How happy and relieved they were?"

"Not Clarke. And not Jasper."

Bellamy took out his flashlight and held the light above the path they had been walking on. Unfortunately, it didn't illuminate anything that he didn't already see. "Did he love her?"

"Maya? Yeah, I think he did," Monty mumbled. "He never thought clearly when he was around her. I tried to warn him..."

"Love makes us do reckless things." Bellamy came to another stop, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "I hate to say this, but there's nothing here."

"What do you mean?"

Bellamy gestured at the path ahead of them angrily, "I mean, there's nothing there for me to track!"

"Then we'll just have to do this another way," Monty replied, sounding extraordinarily calm, given the circumstances. "Where would she go?"

"What?"

"Would she go somewhere familiar? Maybe the dropship? Maybe the bunker she found with Finn?"

"How am I supposed to know where she would go?" Bellamy demanded, "Even _she _didn't know where she was going!"

There was a long silence. "You knew her best."

"That's not true," Bellamy denied immediately. But even as he spoke the words, his mind whirled, conjuring up possibilities. Monty watched him curiously, waiting for the eureka moment. "She wouldn't go somewhere familiar," Bellamy eventually said, his tone firm. "Not if she didn't want to be found."

"And what if she did?"

"Did what?"

Monty shrugged, absentmindedly picking a piece of lint off his sweater. "What if she _did _want to be found?"

"Then why the hell would she leave?"

He shrugged again. "People make mistakes. Then they wish they never made them in the first place, but by then it's too late to do anything about it."

Bellamy stopped.

_Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?  
__I wouldn't even know what to wish for. What about you?_

"Ton DC."

Monty was bent over, examining a plant. But he straightened at Bellamy's words and turned around with a frown, "What about it?"

"That's where she would go." Bellamy threw his pack onto the ground, hurriedly searching for the radio and fumbling in his haste. "That's where she feels like everything started spinning out of control; it's where she wishes she could change things."

"But how do you know? You weren't even there!"

Bellamy hesitated for a beat. "Because you were right. I do know how she thinks, and...that's where I would go." He switched on the radio, "Wick, can you hear me?"

There was a crackle, then Raven's voice came on the line. "It's me." She sounded absolutely exhausted. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

"I'm fine." He glanced over at Monty and amended, "We're both fine. But the thing is, we sort of ran into a dead end following the trail. We need your help. Or my sister, if she's close by."

"How did you know, big brother?" There was some background shuffling as Octavia took control of the radio. "What do you need?"

"Directions to Ton DC."

"Why would Clarke go there?" Octavia's voice had hardened, "There's nothing left except smoke and destruction."

Bellamy tried to explain his reasoning, but found he couldn't. "Call it a hunch," he said eventually, "Please, O. Humor me." It took some more wheedling and promises that they would be careful and take their time, before his sister finally gave in. He and Monty took off through the woods once more, this time using both their flashlights. Night had long since fallen, bringing with it an even more eerie silence.

"I keep thinking I hear something," Monty muttered behind him, "But when I turn around, there's nothing there."

Bellamy swung the light around in a circle, keeping his eyes peeled, but he didn't see anything. His hand automatically latched onto the gun at his side, and he curled his fingers around it, feeling slightly safer. "We should be there soon."

"Any tracks?"

Bellamy shook his head. He knew Monty wanted to question if that meant Clarke hadn't come this way after all, but he didn't. For that, Bellamy was grateful. He wasn't sure how he knew that Clarke would come here, and he wasn't even sure he could articulate why—but the idea wouldn't stop nagging him. He had to check it out, even if it turned out to be a dud.

"Hey, look!" Monty suddenly grabbed his arm, pulling him back behind a tree. "There's a fire."

Bellamy peered around the tree trunk, squinting at the direction that Monty had pointed in. Sure enough, there was a small campfire on the ground. The flames could be seen between gaps in the trees, as could the shadows of what was certainly more than one person.

"Grounders?"

"We should turn back," Monty whispered, "Try something else. Maybe the bunker. She would have shelter there."

Bellamy's shoulders slumped. He had been so sure that Clarke would be here. But Monty was right, even if Clarke _had _come in this direction, she wouldn't stick around if she had seen the Grounders. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly, "Let's go."

He slid back around the tree and stiffened when he heard a twig snap from somewhere to his right. He turned quickly, his hand reaching for his gun but was promptly punched square in the face. There was a yelp behind him and then something hard hit his head.

Then all went black.

When his eyes opened again, he was staring into the flames of the campfire he had seen through the trees. His head throbbed. He blinked several times to clear his vision. Shadows moved around him, voices speaking in another language. _Grounders_. He instinctively tried to reach for his gun, and realized both his ankles and his wrists were bound by rope. He stifled a groan.

The voices became louder now and he froze as the shadows came closer. They had realized he was awake. "Up!" Rough hands grabbed his armpits and forced him into a sitting position. His stomach rolled as the world spun around him. He vaguely heard someone say the word 'concussion' and footsteps rushed towards him. Then all went black a second time.

When he came to, he was aware of a cool cloth being applied to his forehead. He experimentally pulled at his wrists and realized that he was no longer bound. He opened his eyes slowly, and was relieved to see his vision had cleared. He turned sideways and was met with the cold stares of three Grounder men. They were sitting on what looked like a broken down log. The fire had gotten smaller, and Bellamy vaguely wondered how much time had passed.

He tried to sit up, but a hand at his shoulder pushed him back down. "You have a concussion. Do not move, or you'll make it worse." Bellamy frowned, twisting his head around to see who had spoken. There was a small sigh and a muttered, "You're still the worst patient ever."

A face swam into his eyesight and he gazed up at it in sheer disbelief. "Clarke?"

"Hello, Bellamy."


	5. Killer

**A/N: to explain why this chapter is late, let me tell you: I was interrupted by someone/something every single time (no really, EVERY TIME) I sat down to write. It's like no one understands I need some peace and quiet to get into the mindset of these characters! sheesh. So anyway, apologies for the delay! This chapter starts off right after that Bellarke cliffhanger ;) **

* * *

_If you're trying to save me  
Stop holding your breath_

_._

_._

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, before she finally spoke again. And when she did, he frowned, unsure as to whether he had heard her correctly. "What did you say?"

Clarke's face tightened, as if she didn't particularly want to repeat herself. He saw her eyes dart sideways, a quick glance in the direction of the Grounders. "I asked you why you followed me here."

"Excuse me?" Bellamy snapped indignantly, again attempting to get up and letting out a low growl of frustration when her hand pressed down onto his shoulder. "Let go, I'm fine!" She visibly flinched, her hand falling away as though she'd been burnt. He ignored her and unsteadily clambered to his feet, screwing his eyes shut against the sharp pain in his head as he did so.

Clarke didn't rise, but she lifted her head up to glare at him. "You're not fine."

He didn't argue with her, mostly because he felt like the definition of _not fine_. But he most certainly was not going to admit that out loud. "Where the hell is Monty?"

"Monty?" Now she stood up, looking nervous. "He came with you?"

"Yeah, we saw the campfire from back there," Bellamy jabbed a finger in the direction of the woods but didn't take his eyes off the Grounders. All three of them had remained sitting, something that he found rather off-putting. He took a step towards them, his tone becoming belligerent, "Then we were attacked."

Clarke pushed her way past him, asserting herself in front of the Grounders and speaking to them in what could only be called a commanding tone. "You did not tell me there was another."

Bellamy's brow furrowed in confusion as he studied Clarke's profile. Her hands were at her hips, her legs splayed out boldly. There was not a trace of fear or trepidation in her voice as she addressed three men who were taller, stronger, and likely more ruthless than she was. Bellamy was so busy trying to understand what was going on that he was completely oblivious to the tense silence that had followed her proclamation.

The man in the middle finally gave a one-shouldered shrug, not bothering to look up at either of them. "Because there were no others."

"_What?" _Bellamy turned to Clarke urgently, grasping her wrist tightly to make his point. "He's lying."

Her eyes widened, trying to tell him something—or maybe trying to warn him—but she was too late. The Grounder who had spoken got to his feet with a grunt, his eyes narrowed into slits. "You dare question my honor, Sky Person?"

"He wasn't," Clarke quickly intervened, before Bellamy could respond. "Head trauma often causes...confusion. And he was hit pretty hard," she finished with an air of certainty and confidence. "I'll take care of it."

Bellamy scowled when she none too gently grabbed his forearm and dragged him off to the side, away from the probing eyes (and ears) of their companions. "I didn't realize I was something you needed to take care of," he shot at her, yanking his arm out of her grip. "Enough's enough Clarke. What the hell is going on here? Who are those people and why on earth are they taking orders from you?"

"Forget about who they are," she whispered back harshly, "We've spent enough time with Grounders to know how they operate. You know better than to call them liars to their faces!"

He bit back his initial retort because, annoyingly, she was right. "Fine, that's on me," he admitted begrudgingly, "But it's the truth!"

The flames from the campfire threw Clarke's face into alternating facets of light and shadow, so that he couldn't discern her expression. But even so, he was able to see her mask slip into place; her eyes turning cold. "You shouldn't have come. Either of you. Then this wouldn't be happening!"

Bellamy folded his arms, digging his fingertips into his jacket to keep from reaching out and shaking some sense into her. "Sorry," he sneered, "But what exactly would that be?"

"Those people back there found you, and apparently Monty, _spying_ on them! You're lucky you're still alive!"

"We weren't spying on them," his voice rose angrily, "We were just about to turn around to go back when we were attacked!"

"Shh!" Clarke hissed, "Are you trying to get yourself killed!?"

"Are _you?" _

Her mouth closed with an audible snap. With the way things were going, he wouldn't have been surprised to see steam coming out of her ears. "And what," she asked in an eerily calm voice, "Is that supposed to mean?"

Bellamy didn't realize he had stepped forward until her head tipped up defiantly, right under his nose. He blinked, momentarily losing his train of thought. He shook his head to clear it, but reeled backwards as he quickly realized that had been a bad idea. Clarke moved towards him, concern flickering over her features as she watched him gingerly place a hand on the tender spot at the back of his head. Although he felt a lump there, his hand didn't come away smeared with blood, so he considered that a positive sign.

"Told you, you're not fine," Clarke muttered under her breath. "Let me see."

"No," he refused, his eyes settling onto hers challengingly. "I need to find Monty. Then _we _are getting out of here." With that, he spun on his heel and headed into the woods. "Monty?" he called, "Are you out here? Can you hear me?"

Clarke followed behind him, making her displeasure known by the heavy tread of her footsteps. She didn't say a word, however, until he paused near a tree. "What? Did you see something?"

"This is where we were when we were attacked," he responded shortly, crouching down and examining the ground. He could see the pattern in the dirt marking the path they had dragged him on back to their campsite. There were two long marks, identically spaced. He glanced down at the soles of his shoes, matching the tracks to the backs of his boots.

He didn't notice Clarke had knelt down beside him till she spoke again, her breath brushing against the side of his face. "You've gotten better at this whole tracking thing."

Bellamy glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised. "We haven't found him yet."

"But you found me."

They stared at each other, just one beat too long. He broke first, turning away on the pretense of looking through a small pile of leaves. "Yeah, well," he coughed, "I wouldn't exactly call that tracking. More like a...a thought."

"What kind of thought?"

Bellamy frowned at the tree, wondering why she was pushing the subject. He mentally weighed the consequences of outing the elephant in the room, but his mouth decided for him. "Ton DC."

He didn't look at her, but he heard her sharp intake of breath. After a second, she asked cautiously, "What about it?"

"I just..." He hesitated, glancing over at her. The mask was flickering; the one she had so carefully concocted just for him. "I thought you might head in that direction," he said with a note of finality in his voice, hoping she got the hint. They could do this now, but they had more important matters to deal with. Bellamy got to his feet and headed to Clarke, holding his arm out to her. "I don't see any tracks that indicate they dragged two bodies. They must be holding Monty somewhere else."

She didn't take his offered hand. In fact, she didn't even look up.

"Clarke?"

"You know." Her words were flat, her voice detached. Almost as if she didn't care that he knew—or she was pretending to not care. Either way, Bellamy's temper flared. Hadn't she got the hint that he didn't want to discuss this right now? Didn't she realize Monty was _missing?_

"If you kept this from me because you thought I wouldn't understand, then you're wrong," Bellamy snarled down at her. "We're leaders, we make the tough decisions. Trust me, I get it."

She glanced up at that, and he allowed himself to see the hollowness in her eyes; the pain she had been carrying from that incident. "That's not why," Clarke whispered, looking broken. "If you had seen my mother's face when she found out the truth...if you had seen Octavia's—" She stopped abruptly, and he could almost see the wheels spinning in her head. Clarke slowly stood up then, looking wary. "Octavia told you."

Bellamy's mouth twisted against the still-fresh sting of betrayal. He didn't bother denying it. "You lied to me, Clarke."

"I know," she crossed her arms, but he had to give her props for holding his gaze. "And there are no excuses. Just the one." He waited. "I did what I had to do." She inched forward, looking relieved that he hadn't started shouting just yet. "To keep you focused, for the mission. I did it for you."

_I'm here for you...Follow me.  
And why would I do that?  
Because you want them to follow you. And right now, they're thinking only one of us is scared. _

Bellamy blinked away the memory. He didn't often like to think about the dark days when they had first landed on Earth. There was no use in ruminating about the past; not when their present was so bleak. He focused on Clarke, who he belatedly realized was clutching onto his sleeve. "I know you had reasons for what you did. And if you want to put that on me, that's fine—"

"No, that's not what I'm doing!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." He pulled away from her, his jaw tightening against the hurt that flashed across her face. "You know better than anyone that I'm the last person who should be passing judgment on anyone. You know what I've done." He looked down, gathering his resolve. "But lying to me about Octavia, and then not warning her about the missile—those are things I can't forgive."

Clarke had stiffened, "You mean that you _won't _forgive." She shook her head once, "I don't get it, Bellamy. Why are you here then? If I'm such a horrible person, why did you come all this way to find me? Why bother looking at all?"

He had known this question was coming, but now that it was lying in the air between them, he found he had nothing to say.

"Bellamy?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Clarke!" His hands clenched in frustration, "Do you want to hear that your mother and Kane are devastated that you left? Do you want to hear that I couldn't stand the thought that I let you leave without any supplies or even a radio? Or do you want to hear that I can't do this without you?" Her mouth opened, but he cut her off. "Fine, you know what? That's it. That's the reason. I need you t-to lead our people, okay? You can't expect me to do it alone!"

"Do you think I would've left them in your care if I didn't think you could handle it?" She huffed, looking away from him. "I thought you understood why I left. I thought if there was _anybody _that would understand, it would be you."

Bellamy stepped into her line of vision, forcing her to look at him. "When I tried to run," he reminded her in a low voice, "You stopped me."

"It's not the same."

"You're right." She frowned, clearly not expecting him to agree with her. "Because what I did," he continued fiercely, "That was all on me. And trying to run away? That was selfish; I was only looking out for myself." He paused, "You were there for me, Clarke. And now I'm here for you."

She gazed back at him, her eyes glittering in the dark. "Do you know what they call me?"

"What? Who?"

"The Grounders."

Bellamy tilted his head, confused about the direction the conversation was taking. "Leader of the Sky People?"

Clarke scoffed, tightening her arms around herself. He stepped closer to her, just now recognizing why her eyes were glistening. "They found me," she told him quietly, "And attacked me. I fended them off. That's when they realized who I was...what I had done."

"What we did," he corrected, reaching out to grasp both her shoulders, pleading with her to understand. "Clarke, stop putting this all on you. It's not your burden! Me and Monty, we were there. We did it together."

She jerked away, shaking her head. "Killer of Mountain Men," she uttered, her voice wavering. "That's what they called me. That's my new name."

Bellamy fell silent, watching her. She didn't cry, because she would never allow herself to. "Your name is Clarke," he stated into the silence. "You're a healer. A leader. A daughter. A...a friend." His voice broke on the last word, but she didn't make any indication that she had noticed. He wondered if she had even heard him. "We're going back to your new friends," he told her, "And we're going to get my stuff. I have guns, a radio, and supplies. Then we're going to use that radio to find Monty."

"What happens when we find Monty?"

He held her gaze, feeling the same shift between them that had passed earlier. This time, he recognized it for what it was. "Then we go to Ton DC. All of us. Together."

Clarke blinked twice. "Why would you do that?"

Bellamy took a few steps forward, until he was at her side. "Just because it's something that you need to do, doesn't mean that it's something you need to do _alone_." For the first time that night, Clarke's posture relaxed and the barest hint of a smile touched her lips. She didn't thank him; but then again, she didn't need to.

He silently led the way back to the campfire, which was even smaller now than when he had woken up. But that wasn't the only thing different in the clearing. He stopped on the threshold in disbelief.

The Grounders were gone. And they had taken everything with them.

* * *

***first full Bellarke chapter...what did you guys think? xo **


	6. All You Had to Do

**A/N: well I'm sure we've all heard by now about The 100 not premiering till midseason (2016). words cannot express my disappointment over this news. I thought waiting till October would be bad enough, given that season 2 ended all the way back in March! And now we have to wait a whole year...hmph. **

**Anyway, sorry for the long wait! this chapter is a birthday present to ELSchaaf, a fellow Bellarke author on this site. thanks as always to all my awesome readers and reviewers! enjoy :) **

* * *

_Had me in the palm of your hand_  
_Then why'd you have to go  
And lock me out when I let you in_

_._

_._

"Damn it," Bellamy swore as he strode towards the campsite, "Where the hell did they go?"

Clarke remained standing on the edge of the clearing. When he turned around, she looked extremely shocked. "I don't...I don't know."

"So much for loyalty," he spat, knowing full well he was being irrationally angry at her. "You shouldn't have trusted them!"

She straightened at that. "I trust no one," she corrected him coolly. "They were with me because I had temporarily earned their respect, nothing more. When I went off with you to search for Monty, I lost that respect. It's as simple as that."

He squinted at her, not quite able to believe what he was hearing. "So now you're saying it's my fault that they left?" She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off harshly. "Let me guess, next you'll be saying that it's Monty's own fault he got kidnapped!"

There was a moment of silence. When she spoke again, her voice was edged. "I never said that."

"In case you've forgotten, Monty was kidnapped in these woods once before, Clarke!" Bellamy felt the irony of the situation hit him hard, and he looked away. "When we were out looking for you and Finn."

Clarke's face tightened. "I haven't forgotten. And if you think I don't blame myself for everything that's happened, you're wrong."

"Stop it," Bellamy's voice rose with anger, "Just stop! Stop twisting my words whenever it suits your...your martyr agenda!"

"That's not what I'm doing," Clarke's hands clenched into fists at her sides, "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."

He took half a step forward, his voice laced with venom, "Really? Because your mother seemed to be under the impression that I knew you pretty well."

For the first time, Clarke's expression flickered. "What did my mother say?"

_'Because you wouldn't have let her go if she didn't have a reason.'_

Bellamy faltered.

'_I saw my daughter's face when she learned you were alive...she trusts you, Bellamy...'_

"Bellamy?"

He blinked, shaking off the memories from earlier that day. "She knew that I tried to stop you," he answered slowly, "What she doesn't know is that I didn't try hard enough."

Clarke shook her head, "There's nothing you could have said or did. I can't go back there. Not now, not..."

He felt his stomach drop, a sick feeling swooping into his chest. "What are you saying?" he demanded, "Not _ever_? Your grand plan was to go to TonDC and then...what? Just keep wandering the woods till you got yourself killed?"

"I didn't..." She trailed off, a sigh escaping her lips. "I didn't have a plan beyond that."

"Not having a plan?" Bellamy sneered, hating himself as he dug the knife in deeper. "That's not the Clarke that I know."

Her head shot up, and her jaw locked into place. "The Clarke you knew is dead."

He pressed forward, ignoring the warning look she shot him. "What, then? You're going to leave Monty to his fate? You're just going to leave m—" He stopped.

Clarke blinked, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. "I'll help you find Monty, if you promise me one thing."

"Yeah?" He asked aggressively, "And what's that?"

"Promise me you won't force me to come back with you to Camp Jaha."

Bellamy studied the expression on her face, and the dread in his chest grew, squeezing to the point that it became nearly painful. "You're asking me to promise not to take you home, Clarke." He swallowed, "I can't do that."

"I don't belong there." Her eyes were begging him to understand, and the thing was, he _did_. He got where she was coming from. He knew why she couldn't (wouldn't) go back.

"You're our leader," he muttered, not looking her in the eye. He was being selfish and he knew it. "We wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"Maybe so," she shrugged, her voice becoming distant. "But they're not alone anymore. If anything, there's one leader too many these days."

"You sound like Octavia," he replied bitterly, "You know, you two are more alike than you realize."

Clarke looked like she was hiding a smile. "Don't let her hear you say that."

Bellamy's face fell as he pictured his sister waiting by the radio, waiting for news about his progress. He pressed his fingers at his temples, trying to think. His head pounded, likely the concussion making itself known. "Everything's gone, Clarke. The guns, radio, food, water. All of it. What are we going to do?"

He started when he felt a tugging at his jacket, and he opened his eyes to see her motioning for him to sit down. "How's your head?" Her lips quirked, "Are you still _fine_?"

Bellamy sighed ruefully, taking a seat on the log recently vacated by the Grounders. "Alright, so maybe I wasn't fine," he admitted, raising a hand to the back of his head. "I feel like shit."

"You need rest," she remained standing above him, "I'll find us food and water for the night."

"What?" he stood up quickly, wincing when the forest spun around him. "No, we need to go after them!"

Clarke grabbed both his arms, steadying him. "Hey, Bellamy, look at me." It took him a second, but he finally was able to focus on her. So what if she was a little blurry, it would pass, right? "Good, that's it," she said soothingly, "You're gonna sit down now, okay?" He nodded, but stopped the movement as his head gave another painful throb. "Okay, nice and easy," Clarke was saying as they both sat down together. "No sudden movements, alright? You'll make it worse."

Bellamy muttered sarcastically, "You don't say?"

"Seems like you're feeling more like yourself," she commented, removing her arm from his waist and waiting a beat to see if he could balance himself. When he didn't tip over, she got to her feet. "You're in no position for traveling tonight. Either to go back to camp _or _to look for Monty," she advised him sternly. "Now, like I was saying before, I'm going to find you some water. I won't go far. There's a stream that the Grounders and I passed on our way here."

He didn't reply, staring at the dying embers of the fire. "You don't need to take care of me, Clarke." Then his eyes closed, bringing with it a welcome and merciful darkness.

.

.

When his eyes opened again, Clarke was kneeling by the fire. It was once again roaring, and he could see a small pile of tree branches lying near him. "How long have I been asleep?"

She turned slightly on her heel, gazing at him with an appraising eye. "You mean unconscious? About half an hour. Maybe more."

"Long enough for you to re-build the fire."

"I didn't go far," she sat back on her haunches, folding her hands in front of her. "I just walked around the clearing and picked up what I could find. I didn't want to leave you passed out by yourself."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all.

"How are you feeling?"

Bellamy sat up slowly, rubbing the crick out of the back of his neck. His vision had cleared, so that was something. "Better."

"Good," she replied briskly, rising to her feet. Then she reached into the back of her waistband and pulled out a gun, handing it to a stunned Bellamy. "I don't have extra ammo, but I did have this with me when I left."

He held it in the palm of his hand with a frown, "Why are you giving this to me?"

"I'm heading out to find some water," she pointed vaguely to the woods, "There's a stream around there."

Something in her tone made Bellamy instantly suspicious. "Wait," he stood up, this time taking care not to move too quickly. "I'll come with you."

"You need to rest." Clarke smiled at him reassuringly, "Don't worry. It's not far."

She began walking away, and not in the direction she had pointed to. He stared after her, wondering if this was really happening again. She didn't look back at him once, just like she hadn't looked back when she left camp. Resolute in her decisions, as always. Panic clawed its way up his throat, "Clarke, please." He didn't care if he sounded desperate. He didn't care if it sounded like he was begging. "Don't do this."

She stopped just at the edge of the woods, her back to him. In the light from the fire, he could see the tension in her shoulders. "In the morning you'll go back to camp," she said stiffly, "You have the gun. You'll be fine."

"What about Monty?"

"I'll track the Grounders, follow them on the off chance they took him." She turned around, then, finally meeting his gaze. "But it's equally likely that they never saw Monty. Maybe they only saw you, and Monty was smart enough to run back to camp for help. He knew he couldn't defeat them, and he didn't know I was there."

Bellamy ignored her theory, mostly because that scenario had also occurred to him. "And how exactly were you planning on tracking them in the middle of the night?" he demanded, "You have no idea where they're going!" Even as he spoke the words, he knew they weren't true. Clarke wasn't looking at him; she was looking at a point just past him. He took a step forward, then another, counting in his head until he reached her. Ten steps. Ten seconds for her to spill the truth. Ten seconds in which she didn't.

"Tell me."

Clarke sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "Polis," she finally said, "That's where we were going before you arrived."

He repeated the name silently, trying to discern if it sounded familiar. "I thought you were going to Ton DC."

"I was." She crossed her arms, trying to explain. "When I left camp, Ton DC was in the back of my mind as a destination. It was somewhere I needed to go to...to heal, to come to terms with what I'd done, with what I had to live with." She took a deep breath, "But then the Grounders showed up, and I told you what happened with them. I convinced them I was heading to Polis instead, and they believed me since it made sense."

"Why would it make sense?" Bellamy's brow furrowed, "What's in Polis?"

Clarke hesitated, a muscle ticking in her jaw. "Lexa," she finally admitted, "She told me that's where she was heading."

His mind reeled, refusing to believe what he was hearing. "So before she BETRAYED us," Bellamy exploded, "She had the foresight to invite you to a rendezvous point!?"

"It doesn't matter now, it's not like I was going to go there! I was only going to follow the Grounders to see if they had Monty!"

"And if they didn't?"

She didn't reply.

"Damn it, Clarke! Would you be straight with me for just once?" When she still didn't answer, he scowled in frustration. "Clarke?"

She looked up then, and he could see the tear stains on her cheeks. "No," she jerked away when he reached out to touch her shoulder, "Don't." She stumbled back a few feet, wiping her face on her sleeve. "You need to go back to camp, Bellamy. There's nothing for you here."

_Since I don't take orders from you, I'm gonna need a better reason.  
__I can't lose you, too._

"Whether I have a reason to be here or not is for me to decide," he said to her evenly, "And unfortunately for you, I will _never _take orders from you."

She angrily wiped at her eyes as more tears spilled onto her cheeks. "You're an ass."

"I know." Bellamy hesitantly came forward and took both of her wrists, so that she was forced to meet his gaze. "It's just you and me out here, Clarke. You don't need to be a leader. You don't need to be strong. You don't need to _be _anything."

"But I can't be weak," she whispered, "Weakness gets you killed."

"Maybe so," Bellamy agreed, "But only if you're alone."

"I—"

"You're not," he cut her off, correctly anticipating her response. She fell silent. "You have me. After everything we've lost, I can't let you go back out there alone." His voice lowered, becoming faint as he turned away from her. "I can't lose you, too."


	7. Home

**A/N: thank you for everyone's reviews and messages for these past few months encouraging me to finish this fic. Your words mean the world to me. I won't bother coming up with an excuse for this (extremely) delayed chapter. But I recently became inspired to start writing again and first order of business was to bring this fic to a close...now that the new season is less than a month away! *cheers* And without further ado, I bring you the final chapter in my first Bellarke venture. Enjoy!**

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_If you're scared when you're out on your own_  
_Just remember me_  
_Cause I won't let you go_

.

.

When Bellamy sank down in exhaustion, Clarke knelt with him, taking his hand within hers. When she moved back, he found that he was holding the gun again. "Clarke..."

"I'm only leaving to get water this time. Really."

He glanced blearily up at her, squinting against the pain in the back of his head. "Promise?"

"I promise."

He didn't have to see her clearly to hear the smile in her voice.

.

True to her word, she returned in less than twenty minutes, carrying two flasks full of water. "I found the stream I was telling you about," she said, settling down next to him and handing him one of the flasks. "Drink slowly."

Bellamy carefully took a sip of the water, his eyes closing as the refreshing liquid hit the back of his throat. "Thanks, Clarke."

She nodded and then shifted up so that she was sitting on the log, right above him. He frowned as he felt her hands graze the back of his neck and then move into his hair. "Er, what are you doing?"

Her hands stilled. "Checking the bump on your head to see if the swelling has gone down..." Clarke sounded confused. "Why?"

"Oh," he felt silly, "Sorry."

She didn't reply, for which he was grateful. He was also grateful that the darkness hid the flush heating his ears and the back of his neck.

A few moments later, she slid back down to join him on the ground. He watched from the corner of his eye as she scrunched up a rag and poured a generous amount of water on it from her flask. "The good news is, the swelling has gone down significantly."

He waited. "And the bad news?"

She shot him a wry grin, "It still looks like it hurts like hell. Here, press this rag onto the bump. The water from the stream is cool enough that it should help a little."

Bellamy nodded and dutifully pressed the wet rag to his head. Clarke watched him in silence for a few minutes as she drank from the rest of her flask. Bellamy glanced at her and with his remaining hand, clumsily picked up the flask she had given him. "Have the rest of mine."

She shook her head, "Keep it. I can always go get more."

Panic flared inside him again. Some of it must have shown on his face, because she instantly reached out to touch his arm. "Hey," she said softly, "I'm not going anywhere. I promised, remember?" She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "No more running."

Bellamy's eyes drooped sleepily. "No more running," he agreed tiredly. As his eyes closed, he was vaguely aware of Clarke catching his arm as it fell. Her fingers brushed his hand as she took the rag from him.

But he was fast asleep by the time she carefully laid his head on her lap. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed away his curls as she tended to his wound for the rest of the night.

.

When she shook him awake, dawn was just creeping up on them. Bellamy stared up at the sky and then turned his head sideways to see Clarke's face above him. Although she must have been near exhaustion from not sleeping, she smiled down at him. "Feeling better?"

Bellamy gingerly sat up and touched the back of his head. To his surprise, the pain had dulled, carrying none of the sting from the night before. "Yeah, much better actually." He glanced behind him at that moment to see Clarke trying to rub the feeling back into her legs. "You could've woken me," he pointed out, feeling guilty. He hurriedly got to his feet and held his arm out to help her up.

She took his hand and let him haul her up, though she staggered slightly once she was on her feet. His hands shot out to catch her around the waist before he even realized what he was doing. "Um," Clarke stammered, "I, uh, wanted to let you rest." She blinked and shook her head, as though trying to clear it.

"Well, thank you." Bellamy let his hands fall back to his sides but he didn't retreat. To Clarke's credit, neither did she.

"We..." She licked her lips and swallowed. Her gaze darted away from him, focusing on something distant. "We need to find Monty."

Bellamy straightened and slowly nodded. "Monty," he agreed briskly, "Right." He stepped away from her on the pretense of checking the ground for tracks. "It'll be easier to follow a trail during the day. Let's see if we can find one."

"And we need to find your radio, too," Clarke added, now sounding more like herself. "I'm sure everyone back at the camp is worried sick about you."

He whirled around and caught her wrist just as she was about to turn away from him. He stared at her pointedly, "And _you_."

She began to shake her head, but froze as they both heard a loud rustle from the woods behind them. Clarke swung around, pulling the gun from her waistband so swiftly that he almost didn't see it happen. "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Show yourself."

More rustling, twigs snapping, and then...

Monty burst forth into the clearing, closely followed by none other than Octavia and Lincoln, all three of them brandishing weapons. When it became obvious there was no immediate threat, Monty lowered his gun with a confused frown. "Huh, what happened to the Grounders?" He glanced to Bellamy's left and his expression brightened, "Hey, you found Clarke!"

Bellamy gaped at him. "You—you weren't _taken_?!"

"What?"

"Last night!" he threw his arms out in exasperation, "We thought you were kidnapped by the Grounders!"

"No, _you_ were kidnapped by the Grounders!" Monty turned then and indicated Octavia and Lincoln, "So I made my way back to camp and got help. We set out at first light."

Octavia snorted and tossed aside her weapon. Then she marched forward and stopped directly in front of Bellamy, her hands on her hips. "I'm going to kill you."

He blanched, "What happened was—"

She threw her arms around him then, cutting off his explanation. "Do you realize how worried I was when we couldn't get ahold of you?" She hugged him tightly, "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Me too, O," Bellamy met Clarke's eyes over his sister's shoulder. "Me too."

Octavia stepped back and, seeing where Bellamy's gaze was directed, turned to look at Clarke. "Well," she sniffed, "I'm glad to see your kamikaze mission didn't get my brother killed." Her eyes narrowed, "_This _time, at least."

Clarke's smile faltered, but she took the hit in stride. "It won't happen again."

"Too right it won't."

Lincoln stepped between them, gently placing a hand on Octavia's elbow. "This isn't the time or the place. We need to get back to camp."

Monty nodded, but Bellamy only had eyes for one person. "Clarke?" He moved towards her, trying to clamp down on the fear in his chest. "Ready to come home?"

She glanced at everyone surrounding her, taking in Monty's look of resignation, Lincoln's impatience, and Octavia's challenging gaze. Finally, she turned to look at Bellamy and nodded. "Yes."

His relief was palpable to everyone in the clearing, but most of all to his sister. Octavia narrowed her eyes.

.

They cut back through the woods, with Monty leading the way. Lincoln walked behind him, his trained eyes scouting the trees diligently. Bellamy walked beside his sister, while Clarke rounded out the back, her gun gripped in her hands. It was when they were almost home, that Octavia casually fell back until she was in pace with Clarke.

"I know you told Bellamy the truth," Clarke said, without looking up. "About what happened at Ton DC."

"My brother deserved to know," Octavia shot back instantly. Then she shook her head, scoffing to herself. "I only told him because I thought it would convince him to stay back." She turned to look at Clarke accusingly, "But it didn't."

"That's not on me," Clarke responded evenly. "I didn't ask to be saved."

Octavia glared, "Yeah? How about you stop lying to yourself, and stop lying to all of us while you're at it."

Clarke's brow furrowed in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"You said this wouldn't happen again—that you wouldn't put my brother's life in danger again." Octavia cast a glance ahead of them to make sure that the others were out of hearing range before she grabbed Clarke's arm in an unforgivable grip. "The thing is, _Clarke_, it will happen again. Because you're boneheaded and stubborn and my _idiot _brother would walk through fire for you."

Before Clarke could even find the words to form a reply, Octavia had already let go of her arm and sped up to the front to join Monty and Lincoln. Bellamy watched his sister pass him and then suddenly turned around to glance questioningly at Clarke. He paused so that she could catch up with him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she tried to smile, "Everything's fine."

She watched as the others got further and further away, and realized that Bellamy had slowed his pace. He glanced at her and gave her a crooked smile when he saw that she had realized what he was doing. He shrugged unapologetically, "I figured you could use a little space before heading back into the lion's den."

Clarke let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. As she did, some of the tension seeped out of her shoulders. As usual, Bellamy knew what she needed even before she did. Octavia's words reverberated in her mind. _He would walk through fire for you. _

"Bellamy—" She stopped. He turned to look at her, his gaze growing concerned. "I just...I wanted to thank you," she swallowed, "You didn't have to come after me and you did, even after Octavia told you the truth about what happened. After what I did. So...thank you."

He shook his head once, "You don't have to thank me, Clarke. You were there for me at my worst; after all the horrible things that I did, you found it in your heart to offer me forgiveness. Something that I didn't deserve...that I don't deserve."

Clarke reached up to touch his cheek even as her heart gave a particularly painful tug. "You did," she corrected him strongly, "You _do_." She squinted a little and then tilted her head, giving him an ironic smile. "You're a hero, Bellamy Blake."

"I'm no—" But Clarke cut him off before he could finish his sentence. Grasping his shoulders to pull herself up onto her tiptoes, she paused just a breadth away from his lips. "Clarke..." he breathed, and his hands found her waist again, this time pulling her close. As she watched, his eyes darkened. She could feel his chest heaving, could feel her own heart beating, _fast, too fast._ She didn't know when he had gotten under her skin, but he had.

Then he was lowering his head and his lips were on hers, and she was gasping at the warmth flooding her body, at the electricity crackling between them. He deepened the kiss then and she moaned as his hands dipped slightly under her shirt, the heat of his fingers on her skin like fire. She could feel him all around her, consuming her, pulling her in so deep that she knew she'd never be able to get out. And as she pulled back, both of them breathing hard, she decided she didn't mind.

"Well," Octavia's voice rang out from the edge of the forest, her voice carrying clearly over to them. "It's about time!"

And Clarke grinned to herself, not caring that they had an audience, not caring that she was about to face her infuriated mother or an entire camp of people who might not be happy to see her, not caring that the next threat was probably around the corner. She also didn't care that she was standing in the middle of the woods, the camp still out of sight. Because for now, at that very moment in time, she finally felt at home.

Exchanging a grin with Bellamy, she looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. "I know you don't think you're a hero," she murmured against his lips, "But you're mine."

**THE END**

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***thank you to all who followed me on this Bellarke journey! Hope you liked the final chapter, and please do let me know your thoughts in the reviews. I'm on twitter at tamilnadu09 for those who want to fangirl over the new season together! Till next time, XOXO**


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